


Color Blind Alone

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bullying, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Crying During Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lots of Angst, M/M, Nosebleed, Pet Names, Protective Original Percival Graves, Religious Guilt, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Indulgent, Sharing a Bed, Underage Drinking, Workaholic Original Percival Graves, chubby graves ala david from the lobster, clothing sharing, cop graves, graves rescues credence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 20:39:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9565355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Graves is an alcoholic workaholic who tends to distance himself from anyone the second they act like they might care. It doesn't mean he is incapable of caring, for the right sort of person.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yo its me again, i said id do a lobster AU and this is as close as you get cause that movie is fucking strange and so much not my cup of tea. chubby!graves who is a gruff secret softy is the name of the game, and bb credence in need of much T L C is the endgame.

Another day, and another bottle of whiskey to finish in the next few days, before then it would be time to start all over again, until he got fucking tired or sick or Goldstein finally beat him and cracked the case faster.

He originally started out as the youngest and brightest detective, but the success had gone to Percy Graves’ head a little bit, and that’s when the drinking started. The cases were too easy, because he worked _too_ much, and found only comfort in solving cases and putting perp’s behind bars.

He was given a partner initially to help him slow down and also get more done, but all it did was make him more competitive, with his own partner.

She was great of course, brilliant and clever, and might have been a good friend, but he didn’t mix work and his personal life. Hell, he didn’t even have a personal life. Not really. The closest thing he had to a friend was the bottle he devotedly kept repurchasing every time he emptied one.

He sighed, and walked even faster.

The bus always dropped him off three blocks from his apartment so he could pretend he got enough exercise for the day, but in reality was just making his heart pound and his hands sweat, and he supposed he should probably cut down on the bacons and eggs every morning too, or maybe just go back to drinking his coffee black like he did at the academy.

Three blocks felt like eternity, even when he only had one left, and he glanced at his watch, just half past four. Perfectly legal to start drinking. But it would probably be five by the time he actually got changed and sat down.

He smiled grimly, and walked a bit faster, barely noticing how there wasn’t absolute silence like he was used to in the alleyway beside the convenience store.

It wasn’t a cat knocking over a trashcan either, it was something a lot more sinister.

He slowed his steps down and peered down the alleyway.

Four teens appeared to be surrounding something, or a _someone,_ curled up tightly, trying to ward off further blows.

His hand was dropping to his badge automatically, as the other hand pulled back his jacket; stealth holster tucked away out of sight as a rule, but now, needed to make an impression.

“Hey! What’s going on here?”

It was like a flashlight being shown on a bunch of cockroaches, they scattered so fast he barely caught a good look at one of them, --a pinch faced boy who reminded him of a rat--, and chasing them down was pretty much out of the question, so instead, he cursed, and told them they better run.

Yeah that was sure intimidating, long arm of the law indeed.

He sighed, and then turned back to approach their victim, hoping that they weren’t too badly hurt.

“Hey, can you hear me?”

He lifted both hands up to show the figure he meant no harm, and knelt down on one knee, trying to make himself appear a bit smaller, less of a threat. That was more difficult than it would have been a couple years back, considering his current weight, but he tried his best.

“Are they gone?”

As he watched, the figure emerged slowly from the turtle like shape they’d retreated into, unspooling long limbs and revealing that somehow, amazingly, they only seemed to be hurt in one spot.

Where it looked like a clear right hook must have made contact.

“Yes. They’ve gone. You’re okay. You’re safe now.”

The boy, for it was clearly a boy of maybe sixteen, sat up and slowly looked around, blinking at his surroundings, as if not quite sure of how he got there, ignoring completely how blood was flowing freely from the cut on his nose, and his split lip.

“They stole my flyers.”

The boy was looking at him suddenly, eyes wide, fearful and shiny with tears, and Percy didn’t know what to do, or what to say to comfort that.

He hadn’t even noticed any of the kids holding anything when they had run past.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could get them back for you, but they-“

The boy interrupted him with a fervent shake of his head, sending blood drips spattered against the cobblestones,

“It’s okay. Ma will think I handed them all out. She won’t beat me as hard.”

Percy reared back in shock and almost fell over from the change in gravity. He wasn’t even drunk and he was already acting like an idiot, God help him.

“What did you just say?”

The boy shrunk back, and was hugging himself, blood slowly oozing down his chin,

“You won’t tell her will you? You won’t tell her what I did?”

Percy inhaled sharply, and got to his feet, slipping a hand under one of the boy’s arms, tugging him up as well, and he had barely a chance to form a reply when he saw the boy’s eyes roll back into his head, and his legs gave out.

Catching him was a lucky thing, as Percy couldn’t imagine how much worse off he’d have been for smacking his head on the ground, but he didn’t weigh much at all, and the only thing Percy needed to fumble in a pocket for was his keys.

One block of carrying a boy bleeding against his shoulder. He could do that.

*

Credence woke up in a strange place, lying under soft sheets, and upon a bed that had to be made of feathers, no hard springs poking against his spine or legs, and the ceiling was a soft green, like what he imagined baby plants to look like in spring.

He blinked, and realized something white was obscuring some of his vision. Reaching up, he felt a bandage over his nose, and when he pressed against the side of his left cheek, it hurt a bit.

Not nearly as much as a belt would, which was surely what he would be facing if he didn’t hurry up and get out of there, wherever _there_ was.

He brought his other hand down to push away the covers, but squeaked aloud when he saw his shirt was missing.

No wonder the sheets felt so good, they were rubbing against his bare skin.

He wiggled his toes and still felt the frayed edges of his jeans, so things were more okay than they could have been. Footsteps sounded, and made him jump so hard he thought he almost ripped the nice sheets in his hands.

“Hey there. You feeling better? I brought you some water.”

Credence gaped at the man, he couldn’t help it.

It was _him._

The heroic policeman who’d swept into his worst nightmare and saved his life. He thought he had dreamed it all up.

Thought he’d bumped his head too hard, and simply bled out in the alleyway, been scooped up by some kind angel and given a last chance to enter heaven.

“What happened?”

He couldn’t help asking, for it was all a blur after the Shaw boys had moved in and started using their heavy booted feet instead of their fists.

“Well there were a bunch of hooligans roughing you up, and I mean, four against one, the size of you? Practically a slaughter. If I hadn’t come along, I hate to think what state you might have been in.”

Credence gulped.

He knew.

Ma would have been glad to have been rid of him.

A thought occurred to him, even as he shifted out of the blankets and sheet to reach for the water glass,

“Why did you take my shirt off?”

The man ducked his head, and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as they shifted with the movement.

“You had blood all over it. I thought it might be better if you didn’t wake up to that.”

Credence took a huge sip of water to avoid having to say thank you. He would have almost preferred to have been left in it. At least then he’d have a good excuse for why he was coming home so late.

“Got a little blood on my vest to, come to think of it. But I’m sure it’ll all come out in the wash. Now, would you be all right with a cup of baked potato soup? I’ll make sure it’s not too hot, since you shouldn’t stress that cut.”

Credence set the glass back down and brought his hand up to his mouth, feeling the slightly congealed blood over the split of his lip. It burned when he touched it, and his fingers came away shiny, but not with red.

“Its medicine, I didn’t want to scare you with a bandage on your mouth, so I just dabbed some of the stuff on as best I could. Try not to lick any of it off. S’not meant to help your insides.”

The man smiled somewhat, and it softened his dark eyes, which were framed by heavy brows.

Credence nodded, before finding his words.

“Thank you, very much sir.”

“Oh, no none of that. It’s just Detective Graves. I mean, well, you can call me Percy if you’d prefer. Such formality outside the office is pointless. God I need a drink.”

A hand was rising to rub over the man’s chin and lower half of his face, and Credence tried to think of how to say what he needed to, without being rude.

“Mister… Detective, Percy…? I can’t stay for dinner, as much as I appreciate your kindness. I need to be getting home. My ma will be missing me.”

The man got to his feet suddenly, and was approaching him again, eyes wide behind the heavy frames of his glasses, as a hand mussed his hair, making it stand up a slightly,

“Oh god. No. You don’t think I’m going to send you back to that woman, after what you said earlier?”

Credence swallowed thickly.

“What did I say?”

His voice was a hushed whisper, and the man sank onto the bed beside his buried legs, his weight not entirely unwelcome, somewhat grounding almost.

Nothing like how ma’s intimidating stance when she loomed over him in the mornings, as she shrilly told him to get up and stop being such a lazy wretch.

“You said she’d beat you for coming home like this. You understand, I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t just return you to such a terrifying place.”

“But it’ll be worse if I don’t.”

Credence’s lip trembled, and his eyes were stinging, vision starting to blur with tears, and he couldn’t bite his lip to fight them, couldn’t do anything but let them spill over his cheeks, and he was shaking under the covers, trying to vanish as much as he could, wishing that the earth would open up and swallow him.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry. You can stay here as long as you like. Long as it takes to file that report. I’m not going to stop doing my job just because it’s a Friday night. I meant when I said you were safe with me.”

Credence hiccupped a sob, and felt something warm and steady against his face, as he opened his eyes, he realized it was the back of the man’s hand, stroking over his right cheek, the one without the bruise.

“Please don’t cry. I promise I’m pretty good at making a decent soup and sandwich.”

He smiled a bit, and Credence couldn’t help giving a half hearted one in reply, before nodding.

“Okay. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry so much.”

The man shook his head,

“It’s perfectly okay. You’ve been through a traumatic afternoon. I’m guessing that wasn’t the first time that happened?”

Credence considered lying, but remembered, the man was a policeman, not just any kind, a detective, he would know, somehow, if he was lied to.

He finally nodded.

“They’ve followed me home before, all the way past downtown. But I could usually run away, or make it to the church, and they’d leave, they’d get tired of waiting for me.”

“Why did they want to hurt you? Not simply for trying to hand out flyers of some kind, hmm?”

The hand on his face shifted, and was cupping his cheek, a calloused thumb rubbing away his tears, which had finally slowed.

“No. They just said I was an invert, a witch’s spawn. Not worthy to sit in school and church with them. I don’t understand it; I’d never even spoken to them before. They just decided to pick on me because…”

“…You were an easy target?”

The man finished, guessing.

Credence nodded again.

“Well, I’m very sorry for that. Unfortunately bullying continues to be a problem in many schools, and there’s only so much we, rather, the force can do about it. Most of it is up to the parents to raise their kids better. I mean, look at you. You’re so tough, and you clearly come from a less than friendly home, if you don’t mind my saying so, and you don’t shy away, you keep going back to your school, your church, knowing you could face trouble. But you do it anyway.”

Credence could feel a lump in his throat, but it wasn’t from sadness. It was something he didn’t quite know how to identify, and he thought maybe it had started from such a gentle contact, but before he could blink, or say anything, the man was moving away, standing up and grabbing something off the end of the bed.

“Here’s something to tide you over until the washer’s finished. It’s probably a little big, I mean, look at me, I’ve turned into a whale, but it’s better than nothing.”

Credence didn’t know what to say, so he stuck with a strangled reply of,

“Thank you.”

The man, Detective Graves, gave him just a flicker of a smile, and then was gone, out to check on the dinner in the kitchen, Credence supposed.

Slowly, he climbed out of the bed, and crawled over the sheets and blankets to the shirt, folded slightly, but creased perfectly.

Just like he’d been taught to do with his church clothing.

It was dark, so dark he thought it was black, till he picked it up and turned it towards the lamplight. Dark green, and with threads of black.

The fabric was smooth and crisp, like it hadn’t just been ironed, but starched too, to hold the nice edges.

He felt strange pulling it on, even though he knew it wouldn’t fit well at all, it felt far too nice a piece of clothing for him to even be touching, much less trying to wear.

As his shaky fingers did up the buttons, he found that he had to roll back the cuffs three times to ensure his hands weren’t drowning in fabric, in an improper alignment of the sleeves.

He padded out to the kitchen, following the unfamiliar hall as it went, and started to be able smell the scents of cooking, the different elements of what the man had called baked potato soup. He’d never heard of such a thing. Baked potatoes were one item themselves, served at special occasions, like Christmas. He couldn’t imagine what was inside a soup made from them.

He turned the corner to see the dining table, small but elegantly arranged, set for two and with the nicest dishware he could remember seeing outside a catalogue he’d snuck a look at while shopping for the basic necessities at the grocery store.

“Sorry it’s just plastic and stainless. I don’t usually use anything but disposable things, but I figured, hey for soup and sandwiches might as well go the extra mile.”

Credence reached out and grazed a finger over the edge of the nearest soup bowl, and he was surprised. Something so nice wasn’t actually real; it was just a more durable version?

“Everything okay?”

The man was closer now, setting down the other dishes, filled with food and then pouring a glass of milk for Credence and what looked like alcohol for himself, over ice.

“Oh. Yes. It looks incredible.”

The man chuckled,

“Just a normal Friday night for me, I mean, not usually quite this much of course… but anyway… um, what’s your name, by the way, I kept forgetting to ask.”

Credence took a seat and hoped he could keep his mouth from watering all over the pretty tablecloth,

“It’s Credence.”

*

Percy eyed the boy as he sat down, looking as if he expected the food to just vanish if he blinked for too long, and he tried not to think about how easy it had been to count the boy’s ribs when he’d been tugging off his blood soaked shirt.

Besides the fear of beatings for god knew what sorts of trivial transgressions, clearly he wasn’t being well fed, or even _decently_ fed, and next to him, Percy felt well, utterly selfish.

If only he’d known that someone so in need was going through the motions of a supposedly okay life, and someone who attended a religious school and regular church no less… he just wished he could have done something sooner. Arranged some kind of anti bullying rally with Goldstein’s blind approval and made the rounds of the high schools, even the private ones.

The boy prayed silently before starting to ladle out some soup for himself, and took barely half a bowl full before then turning to the plate of sandwiches, which was more than enough for two people, but Percy had thought that he’d be happy to enjoy leftover chicken salad for lunch the next day, and it wasn’t until he’d looked up and caught the boy staring that he had to speak.

“You can have more than that, if you wish.”

The boy, Credence, shook his head with such a minute movement he wondered if he’d imagined it.

“Thank you, but I don’t want to be greedy.”

Percy exhaled slowly, counting to ten. The whiskey hadn’t hit him yet, as he’d been waiting to start until he knew the boy had woken up and gotten his bearings, and then kept waiting until dinner was finished, because though he cooked just as well drunk, everything tended to be more than a little over seasoned. Turned out he’d chosen correctly, as he suspected the boy had probably never had anything remotely like the meal of simple ‘comfort foods’ Percy had made for them, in his entire life.

“You can’t. Trust me. I need all the help I can get. Even if you, uh, eat properly, there will be leftovers. Don’t worry.”

Self deprecating humor had become his forte in the last few months and even Goldstein had noticed and been allowed to get in on it, but he could see it going way over the boy’s head.

“You don’t want to give the leftovers to the shelter?”

He bit back a laugh at that. All leftovers went to good use with him, and he took a large gulp of whiskey to delay having to answer such an innocent question.

The boy was completely focused on him, his soup probably going cold in the bowl, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care.

He was probably used to eating lukewarm and watery soup back home.

Percy coughed, whiskey burning all the way down,

“We can, yes, of course. Only if you promise to eat a full bowl of soup and maybe half a sandwich if you can manage it.”

Never let it be said that Detective Graves wasn’t above the right sort of blackmail, and he took another sip of whisky to hide his smile as the boy nodded and started to eat properly, _finally_.

It would be worth giving up his already planned lunch for tomorrow if it meant that Credence could go to bed without hunger pains, for once in his life.

Although he had meant it when he said the boy could stay with him, he was still trying to work out the logistics of it all. Of course he could call into the station tomorrow and catch whoever was on the weekend draw, file the report and get the child services working on the boy’s family, but he wasn’t sure that was how he really wanted to spend his morning, hung-over for sure, and trying to fill out tedious paperwork.

Could he push it out till Monday?

He glanced over at the boy, who was carefully and methodically eating, a couple spoonfuls of soup, pausing to breathe, or pray more, he guessed, and then a sip of milk, before repeating it all.

Percy’s shirt was far from oversized on the boy, it was almost drowning on Credence’s slim frame, and he couldn’t help smiling as he saw how neatly the cuffs had been rolled back, almost to his elbows, and the collar seemed to kissed right up under the curve of his ear.

Sage looked good on him, contrasting well with the pallor of his skin and the darkness of his hair--

What?

Percy blinked, and dropped his eyes to his half eaten sandwich and his near empty glass of whiskey.

Time for a refill and a mental block.

By the time dinner was over, to his satisfaction, and Credence was leaning back in his chair, looking more than a little dazed, probably overwhelmed by the feeling of being unable to eat anymore, Percy got to his feet to start clearing the dishes, barely noticing that the boy was getting up too, until there was a hand on his arm. So much for mentally planning how to organize things for a trip to the shelter Sunday.

“I’ll do that. It’s the least I can do. You just sit and enjoy your drink.”

He blinked over at the boy, wondering if his glasses were smudged or if the boy was really looking that sweetly at him, and then Percy nodded.

“Okay. If you insist.”

He was used to doing the dishes for himself, letting them pile up all day so he had a decent amount to throw into the dishwasher, but that day he had done them in the morning before work, not wanting to have anything to come home to but the rest of the whiskey, so Credence didn’t really have much to do.

Percy moved to the living room to pour the very last drops into his glass, and sighed. He would have to make a run to the store that weekend after all, and he wasn’t sure at all that he could be comfortable leaving the boy at home alone, but dragging him along would probably not go very well either. Maybe he could run by the liquor store after dropping off the food at the shelter.

He glanced towards the kitchen, seeing the boy through a haze, and he realized he had better go get ready for bed and lay down lest he make too much a fool of himself around his impressionable house guest.

Detectives weren’t supposed to drink themselves into oblivion every other night, but there he was, doing it anyway.

Once he’d gotten changed and finished brushing his teeth, wincing at the mix of mint and the remnants of whiskey on his tongue, he went over to check on Credence.

The boy was perched on the bed in the guest room, staring at a place on the wall, hands folded in his lap, looking a bit lost in thought.

“Hey, there’s everything you’ll need in the bathroom, if you want to take a shower or something I can redo your bandages when you’re done.”

‘If I’m still awake by then.’ He thought to himself.

Credence shook his head, and then got up slowly, reminding him of that first moment,

“I’m okay, thank you. I usually take a bath in the mornings.”

Percy nodded, unsure what else to say.

The boy shuffled past him into the bathroom and eyed him only for a moment before shutting the door, and he didn’t hear the lock click.

Returning to his own space and turning off the lights, Percy fought back a groan at how good it felt to finally collapse into bed, sinking into the sheets and fluffy comforter.

He could almost call it like returning to a nest, but no proper man would allow themselves to think that about a bed.

It was just comfortable as hell.

When he shut his eyes, everything seemed to stop spinning and slow down and become quiet, like being placed under a bowl, muffling and isolating.

Whiskey could be an amazing sleep aid when it wasn’t giving him a fuck awful headache.

He didn’t know how many hours had passed when something made him open his eyes, blinking in confusion into the darkness, but then he realized it had been a gentle knocking on his door, and he squinted to see the boy standing in his doorway, shoulders hunched over, illuminated from behind by the hall light.

“S’matter?”

It wasn’t the alcohol making him slur his words, but a combination of exhaustion and that.

“I can’t sleep.”

The words were a low whisper, and he thanked the boy in his head for that at least, he had a good indoor voice.

“Hmm, how come?”

He shifted around, pulled the comforter away just a bit so the boy could see his face and not continue to have to talk to the round slug he knew he probably resembled beneath the covers.

“I just keep seeing their faces when I close my eyes.”

Credence had crept closer when Percy blinked again, slowly coming around to the fact that maybe he wasn’t the only one who had a hard time sleeping without outside help.

“How can I help?”

The boy was wringing his hands together, before he moved to hug his arms around himself, and Percy noted dimly that he’d taken off the borrowed shirt, and seemed to just be in his boxers.

“Can I stay with you?”

The answer of ‘ _you already are’_ would have been unnecessarily cynical at that point, and Percy sighed.

“Okay. But just for a little bit.”

Not like he was going to forcibly remove the boy when he’d fallen asleep, with his luck he’d end up stubbing his toe and drop him on the way back to the guest room.

Somehow he suspected if he’d been one hundred percent sober he never would have agreed to it, but as he saw the boy pad over to the other side of the bed, and slowly climb on, he could feel that he was only sliding under the comforter, and not both the sheets and it.

Thank heavens for small mercies, he supposed.

“Thank you.”

The boy’s words were even softer than the whisper from before, and he nodded, before realizing the boy would have to be watching him to get anything out of that.

“You’re welcome.”

He managed to croak out, as a foot nudged against the back of one of his calves, likely by accident as the boy was getting settled.

Closing his eyes, he prayed for sleep to claim him again, so he wouldn’t have to listen to the steady way that Credence breathed easier with a strong presence beside him.

The boy probably just needed a good father figure in his life, someone to look up to and admire, past the horrific examples of parenting he had at home. That’s all he was, and even if he was a shitty sort of person to be put on a pedestal that was all that he _would_ be for the boy, damn it all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaah oh graves....

* * *

 

Credence woke up surrounded by warmth for the second time in his life, and he didn’t want to move, but he suspected he’d be in trouble if he remained in bed any longer, and he shifted around, trying to find a way to see the clock past all the blankets and he started, remembering exactly where he was.

The kind detective was snoring gently beside him, completely buried beneath the same comforter he was, and he gulped, not sure what to do. He could stay, and rest as long as the man would let him, or he could get up, sneak out, and hurry home, praying for mercy from ma.

He was lost in those thoughts when he felt the mattress dip, and the man was moving, turning slightly to snuggle further into the middle of the bed, and thus inching a bit closer to where Credence laid, oh so still, trying to decide what to do.

Eventually he dared to reach out a hand, beneath the comforter, as he was sleeping under it but atop the sheets, and he ducked his head to rest against the swell of the man’s bicep, holding his arm over his back. It was hardly a hug, but it still felt really nice, just being so close to another human being, and one who had been so nice to him besides.

He had closed his eyes, deciding he could stay a little longer, and then the man was moving again, shifting one of his own arms out from under the covers to put his hand to the back of Credence’s neck, a firm but cautious hold, pulling him closer to properly rest his forehead against the man’s chest.

Now it was more like a hug, with the comfort of the blankets over them and around them.

He didn’t even know if the man was awake or simply that sort of sleeper to seek out contact unconsciously.

He’d never heard of such a thing much less experienced it.

But since he wasn’t snoring anymore, Credence suspected he was probably awake, or at least hovering between consciousness and waking, even if alcohol still lingered in his system.

Drinking was a sin, especially to the amount the man had done it, but contrary to what ma had always said, he hadn’t been wrathful or mean to Credence, if anything, he’d been even kinder.

The hand on his neck shifted up to his hair, and fingers were stroking through it, before he even made the connection that of course, no one did _that_ unconsciously.

“Sleep okay?”

The man’s voice was gravely, whether from the liquor or sleep, and Credence felt a shiver run down his spine, as he just nodded, afraid to speak and shatter the relative silence.

“Good. You probably needed it.”

Now the man was brushing his hand over his bruised cheek, careful, so careful not to press too hard in case it hurt.

“How’s your nose feel?”

Credence swallowed, and cracked open his eyes to find the man staring at him, entirely focused, with something that might have been concern in his dark eyes. Without his glasses, Credence could see his eyes had flecks of gold in the midst of the brown.

“Still a bit sore.”

Credence didn’t even know. He couldn’t actually feel any pain yet, but he also hadn’t moved his face much.

“And this?”

A finger grazed tenderly past his bottom lip, and Credence stuck out his tongue to lick them both, out of instinct or habit, he didn’t know, getting a taste of whatever medicine the man had put on the cut, and also accidentally catching the tip of his retreating finger.

The man blinked and his eyes left Credence’s own to fall somewhere around his mouth, and he fumbled over his words.

“It’s okay. Doesn’t really hurt.”

Credence held his breath as the moment dragged on, and then the man was speaking, still with a bit of a rasp to his voice,

“That’s good.”

But then he rolled away and Credence tried not to wince at the sudden lack of warmth.

“What do you usually like for breakfast?”

The man was asking him, sitting up slowly with a groan and bringing a palm to his forehead.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Breakfast is usually just some watery oatmeal. Or a piece of toast if we have extra money.”

“Oh.”

The man glanced back over at him from under his hand,

“God. Okay. Well, I have toast for sure. Plenty of it. You can have whatever you want on it. Peanut butter, jelly, the works.”

Credence didn’t really know what those things tasted like, but he knew other kids from school who frequently brought sandwiches made with them.

“Okay. Thank you.”

The man smiled, a bit sadly, if Credence was correct,

“Don’t thank me for basic human kindness.”

Credence swallowed, and almost bit his lip but stopped just in time when he remembered that would probably make it start bleeding again.

“Can I go take a shower while you cook?”

He asked, somewhat daringly, as if assuming since the man considered food a basic thing, maybe he wouldn’t mind if he took something nicer than a bath.

“Oh yeah, of course. There should be enough towels for you. And your shirt’s long done drying now.”

He smiled a bit wider, and then was reaching over to put on his glasses, before retrieving a blue plaid bathrobe from the end of the bed, putting it on to cover his bare chest.

Credence glanced away, and he realized how he was underdressed compared to the man’s grey sleep pants and robe now, while he was just in his boxers.

But he hadn’t wanted to sleep in his jeans. Now getting out of the bed would be a bit awkward, he guessed, until he looked back over to find the man had left the room completely, so maybe he could sort of run back to his room… no, the _guest_ room.

Everything else fell away when he stepped into the bathroom and found he could put a heater on, as well as turn the water as hot as it would go, and his skin fairly tingled as he stepped under it, not even noticing the sting against old wounds on his back.

He closed his eyes and turned to put his face full on under the spray, relishing the way it seemed to wash his tears and any remaining blood from his nose completely away.

Of course drying off might re-open the wounds if he wasn’t careful, but Detective Graves had said he would redo them for him, so maybe it was okay.

When he finally emerged, the hot water had gone from scalding to lukewarm, and he was terribly embarrassed, hoping the man wouldn’t be too angry at him.

He didn’t know that it would take only about half an hour to reheat the water in the tank again, but he still got dried off and redressed, walking out to the kitchen expecting the worst.

What he found was the man in the kitchen, humming a little, cooking at the stove while a coffee maker burbled in a soothing manner, brewing what looked like several cups worth.

Would he be allowed to try some?

Credence was much too afraid to ask for something like what he knew most people his age liked, hot chocolate or orange juice or something.

“What are you making?”

He finally asked, trying not to speak too loud to startle the man.

Detective Graves presented a strangely comfortable looking image, clad in his robe with sleep messed hair and his glasses somewhat slipping down his nose.

He turned around to see Credence and smiled warmly,

“Hey there. I thought I’d try and be a little healthy, making a tomato and spinach and cheese omelet. You’re welcome to have some along with your toast. I put out all the kinds of jelly I have and the peanut butter of course, you have your pick.”

Credence’s eyes went wide as he counted at least five different colored jars, along with the red capped peanut butter one.

Orange jelly? Strawberry he knew was more common, then grape, raspberry, and blackberry.

They all sounded so good, but he carefully picked strawberry to be safe, and then was left staring at the perfectly toasted bread on a plate, wondering how to ask about a knife.

“What’s the matter?”

Credence looked up from the plate and found the man watching him with a heavy brow quirked, and he felt his cheeks heating up.

“Can I have a knife or spoon for the jelly?”

“Oh, shit, sorry. Here you go.”

The man was stepping over towards him, reaching past for a drawer he hadn’t even noticed, and then handing him a butter knife, handle first.

Credence was amazed; he wasn’t the only one who’d been taught proper etiquette.

“Did you go to a private Christian school too?”

He blurted out almost before he could stop himself, and the man looked over at him, before chuckling and shaking his head.

“God no. I was in a plain old secular school.”

“With drugs and underage drinking?”

The man laughed again,

“I guess so yeah. Alcohol didn’t really appeal to me until I started working full time though, so I kind of joined the party late. I sure made up for it though. Now, how much of this would you like? Half? A quarter?”

Credence stepped over to the stove to look at the omelet, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen something so delicious as dinner the night before, but that put it all to shame.

“Um, maybe a quarter to start?”

The man nodded,

“Okay, yeah, you fix your toast and I’ll get the coffee ready. How do you like yours? Er, do you _drink_ coffee?”

Credence did bite his lip now, and he didn’t even notice the pain, until he tasted blood.

“Oops. Um, yeah I can. Do you have sugar for it?”

“Oh shit, sorry. I forgot you need a new bandage.”

The man flicked the stove off and stepped towards him, a gentle hand cupping his cheek, as he gazed critically at Credence’s nose.

“Come on, breakfast can wait.”

He let the man lead him to his bathroom where he pulled out a first aid kit, and he realized the last time that he had done that, Credence had been unconscious.

Now he was completely aware of every little thing, as the man carefully wiped his cuts with a bit of peroxide, and the sting didn’t even bother him, he knew it was helpful to the healing process.

When the bandage was being peeled back and the man put a dab of the healing ointment on it, he looked over to catch Credence staring at him, at his hands as they worked.

“I won’t put any on your lip right now, don’t want to ruin the taste of breakfast… but just be careful until you’re done okay?”

Credence nodded silently, and the man applied the bandage to his nose, fingers gentle over his still bruised cheek.

“Do you want anything on that?”

He was asking, thumb rubbing over the sore skin, and Credence couldn’t breathe, or think, he was actively trying to form the words ‘no thank you’ but instead he was just leaning against the man’s palm, the caring touches slowly eroding away years of memories of harsher ones.

“Hmm?”

Credence realized he’d closed his eyes and still not said anything yet.

“Um…”

The man’s other hand was on his face now, and before he could blink or actually say anything meaningful, he was leaning in close, and his mouth was pressed to Credence’s.

*

Percy knew he’d fucked up about three seconds later, as he pulled back, and found the boy’s eyes wide, and his jaw dropping.

“I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have done that.”

His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, but he could blame it on the cup of coffee he’d already had to help combat the hangover, and not how beautiful and innocent the boy had looked in that moment.

“It’s okay. I know I have to pay you back eventually.”

There was a ghost of a smile on the boy’s face, but it was tinged with sadness, and something inside Percy clicked into place as he processed what he’d said.

Fuck.

Credence thought he _owed_ him that?

His mind was already racing ahead, trying to guess what else the boy thought he _should_ be doing to pay him back, but he squeezed his eyes shut and took several steps back, feeling the hard edge of the bathroom door at his back,

“Sorry, sorry, no, you don’t have to do that. Let’s just go eat breakfast before it gets cold.”

He didn’t see the expression on the boy’s face, but he hoped it was something like relief.

He still felt extremely awkward at the dining room table, and tried to eat in silence, not really sure what to say, considering he was shit at making small talk and never usually ate with anyone.

Credence, for his part, was seemingly content to remain quiet as well, and by the time the plates were empty and more caffeine was buzzing through Percy, he actually jumped when the boy started to collect the dishes.

“Wait.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to do that either.”

Credence blinked at him, and glanced down at where Percy was gripping his wrist, and he let go at once, as if he’d been burned.

“But I have to repay you somehow…”

Percy brought his hand to his temples,

“Why?”

“Because my ma says no one ever does anything for free. There’s always a cost, otherwise it’s not a fair trade, and it’s a sin.”

Percy squeezed the bridge of his nose harder, but it wasn’t making his headache go away.

“Your… _ma_ doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Sometimes people do things for other people out of the goodness of their hearts. It’s what charities are built on. That’s why we’ll take those leftovers to the shelter later.”

“Are you okay Mister Percy?”

He sighed.

“I don’t know. Honestly. I’m just trying to do my best.”

There was a small slim fingered hand on his own, pulling it from his face, and then the boy was so close he was blurring in Percy’s vision.

“Is there anything I can do?”

No.

Yes.

Maybe.

He shifted the grip so he was squeezing the boy’s hand gently and he tried to smile,

“Tell me you forgive me for… earlier?”

Credence shook his head,

“There’s nothing to forgive. I didn’t mind it. It was nice. I just didn’t ever think I could… with someone like you.”

The boy’s cheeks were turning pink, and Percy felt his own face drain of color.

“Because she told you that it was wrong?”

His voice had fallen to a whisper without his permission, and the boy nodded slowly.

“Was that your first?”

Of course.

All one had to do was look at him and know that the boy probably kept to himself merely to avoid unnecessary negative attention, despite how kind and lovable he was.

Yikes.

Percy wished he could rewind and erase his own thoughts.

That wasn’t going _anywhere_ helpful; he needed to get back on track the ‘ _be a good mentor’_ train.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

Credence blinked down at him, still standing, poised to start clearing the table as Percy was slumped in his chair.

“Why?”

“Because something like that should only happen with someone you, uh, care about. Someone you’re seeing in a romantic capacity.”

“Oh.”

He saw the boy gulp, and his eyes skittered away from Percy’s own to bore a hole into the floor, until he nodded eventually.

“Okay.”

He moved so fast it almost made Percy jump again, and before he knew what was happening, the boy was straddling his lap, weight almost nothing against him, arms wrapped around his neck in a fervent sort of hug, as he smashed his lips into his own.

_That_ was not what was supposed to happen.

He was torn between wanting to push the boy off, gentle as he could, and pull him closer, neither option really would end well, he assumed.

When he felt the boy’s mouth opening slightly, and his warm wet tongue sliding over his bottom lip, a timid attempt at deepening the kiss, he sighed, and allowed his lips to part.

Eventually he put his hands on the boy’s back, fingers grasping at the fabric for purchase, and he felt a shudder run through his body.

It made his breath catch, and he swallowed, leaning forward to break the kiss and press his forehead into the boy’s.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

He whispered, afraid if he spoke too loud, that he’d startle the boy.

“No. Is that okay?”

He inhaled sharply, and found himself nodding as the boy’s arms loosened, hands sliding over his shoulders to grasp at one under each palm.

“Tell me if I do it wrong?”

“Okay.” He promised, and he swore he saw the ghost of another almost-smile, before Credence shifted close again, and pressed his mouth back to Percy’s, a gentler, slower kiss beginning.

Percy held his hands on the boy’s hips now, keeping him steady but also holding him back from pressing too close to his lap, and away from his belly.

He’d never thought he’d need to be self conscious, but he also hadn’t planned on accosting his adorable house guest within twenty four hours either. 

When Credence tried to kiss harder, putting some teeth to use on his bottom lip, Percy pulled away, knowing he couldn’t return the gesture there without hurting the boy. 

So he dragged his mouth along the boy’s jaw line and down his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin there, before more gently licking over the spot he’d made pink from his attentions, soothing the sting.

“Ungh… daddy…”

He froze, lips hovering over a new unmarked patch of skin on the boy’s neck, and he could feel the boy stiffen under his hands.

“What was that?”

“Oh. Sorry, I don’t know why I said that, I mean…”

Credence was flushing, and his eyes squeezed shut, only to open when Percy put a hand up to his face, nudging his chin so that he was facing him, and when his dark eyes blinked open, he saw tears forming, making them shine.

“It’s okay. I mean, if you want to call me that you can. I’ve noticed you have a hard time calling me just ‘Percy,’ so what the hell right?”

He managed a smile, and he saw the boy’s cheeks flush again, as he nodded, nuzzling his cheek into Percy’s hand by default with the movement.

God. He was so sweet and pure, why was he letting Percy corrupt him?

“Okay. Will you do that again, on my neck like you did… daddy?”

“Sure thing, yeah.”

Percy tried to mentally steady himself, before returning to lean in again, somewhat scooping the boy into his arms, getting to his feet and walking out of the kitchen. He wasn’t about to keep that up in there, and besides, the chairs were not comfortable as his bed, even with such a light weight creature on top of him.

He sat them both down on the edge of the bed, and tried to think of the right thing to say, how to lead into a question, but Credence was nuzzling his face against his neck and trying to imitate what he’d done, soft but wet kisses and little nips of his teeth on his skin.

It was driving him quite frankly insane, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hide the fact he was getting harder by the second.

One of the boy’s hands started to slide down his chest, and he was frozen in a heartbeat, scared to death that the next words out of Credence’s perfect plush mouth were going to be of disgust and rejection, as the fingers grazed past his belly he realized that he wasn’t stopping, and had just barely moved over his cock, below two layers of fabric, still in his robe and pajama pants, and his breath caught in a moan.

“What are you doing?”

His heart was in his throat as Credence blinked up at him and murmured,

“You get hard just like I do sometimes… after I think about sinful things…”

Percy nodded, still speechless, and the hand on him moved just slightly, tightening as the boy tried to get a better grasp on him.

“Can I touch you daddy?”

“You can, but uh, I don’t know if you’ll like it if I take this off… can you work around the robe and just pull my pants down?”

He felt like an idiot asking for that, for such clear indulgence and even bothering, when what he should have been doing was pushing the boy back into the comforter and kissing him and touching  _him_ so that he was too distracted to notice he was being attended by an elephant.

“But I want to see you…”

“No. Trust me, you don’t.”

He tried to start shuffling open the bottom half of the robe, to insist, but then Credence put his hand on his chest, pointedly nudging him backwards, until the boy was straddling his legs again. As he was lying on the bed, staring up at the boy, Percy found himself praying for strength.

“Let me make you feel good… it’s the least I can do.”

“None of that now, remember? You don’t owe me…”

His words died in his throat as Credence’s palm caressed down his chest to his stomach, fingers splaying over his belly and dragging against the coarse hair leading down past his navel, before dipping lower, and slipping inside his pajama pants, finally giving skin to skin contact to his aching cock.

Percy bit his tongue to stifle the moan that wanted to escape him, and he tried to just stare at the ceiling, sucking in his breath, hoping it made him look a bit less hopelessly chubby.

“You’re so big daddy. Is this okay?”

Percy couldn’t speak, so he just nodded. 

It was impossibly good, and felt incredible, even though the boy obviously had no idea what he was doing, maybe even had rarely done it to himself, there was little chance he could do anything wrong.

His hypothesis was further proven when he felt a warm wetness lapping at the head of his cock, and his hips thrust up involuntarily, as he glanced down to find the boy kissing him, and still moving a hand up and down over the shaft. His heart nearly stopped and he was fisting the sheets to keep from reaching down and instead putting a hand to that head of dark hair.

“Credence…”

He almost choked on the boy’s name as the tongue working him over rubbed right against the slit and the hand slid to the base, gripping somewhat tightly.

He pulled back to look at Percy, eyes wide,

“Yes?”

“If you keep that up, I’m going to come.”

“Don’t you want me to?”

Percy shook his head, even as his libido screamed otherwise, it had been so many long months since he’d had  _anyone_  in bed who hadn’t fled at the sight of his no longer in shape body.

“I’d rather make you come first.”

The boy blinked at him, and moved his hand again, making Percy’s hips jerk involuntarily.

“Why?”

“Why? Credence… baby, why not? Have you ever done that?”

He was shaking his head, and Percy felt a lump in his throat.

“How did you know how to do this?”

“I’ve seen some things. When I was younger, I had friends who I could visit in their homes. One of them had a dad with lots of magazines with naked people.”

Percy’s heart clenched. How young had he been when first exposed to such a thing? Only then to turn around and be told how wrong and sinful it was, when he should have been allowed to ask questions and be given proper explanations?

God.

He didn’t know if he could handle being the boy’s first… everything.

He wanted to, so badly.

But he also wanted it to be perfect, because Credence deserved it.

“So you don’t know what happens when someone… finishes?”

Credence shook his head, and kept moving his hand, tortuously slow now, so that Percy had to concentrate on every word and try not to sound in pain lest he make the boy stop.

“It’s a wonderful feeling, but when it’s a man that you’re with, it can be a little messy. Have you ever woken up from a nice dream and…?”

He trailed off, noting how Credence’s cheeks turned pink.

“I think so. Last night I slept so well. But it wasn’t messy.”

Percy blinked,

“Maybe uh, maybe it wasn’t arousing enough for you. I mean, obviously how could it?”

There he went again with the self deprecation, but he knew he should stop as it only seemed to confuse Credence.

“What do you mean?”

“How do you feel right now, like this?”

He meant, kneeling over him and having already willingly put his mouth on him, but perhaps the boy had only done it because he thought it was  _what_  one did…

“Good. My legs are a little wobbly, but it’s like praying. Only better.”

Credence smiled a bit, and Percy’s heart skipped a beat again.

He was utterly enchanting, hand working steadily on his cock or not.

But it certainly helped.

“Oh-okay.”

“So when you feel good, when you think you’re done, it’ll be messy? Like what?”

Percy’s head fell back against the mattress and let out a breath.

“I could show you on yourself or you can keep going… at this point it could go either way.”

Before he could try harder to make the boy stop or influence him not to, with prettier words, warmth enveloped the head of his cock again and he squeezed his eyes shut, desperately clinging to the last fragments of his control, and he could feel the boy’s other hand petting along his bare thigh. When had he pulled his pajama pants off so far?

He’d been more than a little distracted he supposed, and the hand slid further down, tentative and clumsy, but gently stroking over his balls, which grew tighter as he got closer to coming.

“Credence… it won’t be long now.”

The boy just hummed against him, and with a final stroke over the base of his cock, Percy couldn’t hold back, so he just held on to the sheets, and blinked frantically to keep back tears as his orgasm washed over him, and Credence remained over him, lips tight and jaw loose as he carefully swallowed around his softening cock.

He hadn’t felt such a powerful release in so long, it made him jumpy, as the boy finally pulled away, still touching him with his hand, but only a gentle caress as he climbed up the bed, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, throat bobbing slightly as he swallowed again.

Percy was too dazed, too relaxed forcibly to even try and re-dress himself so he simply laid still and fought to slow his heartbeat and catch his breath.

“Was that right… daddy?”

He was leaning up on his elbow and looking down at Percy, like some kind of angel, and he hoped that he didn’t see tears in the boy’s eyes, but they sure shimmered.

“Of course. It was wonderful. You did amazing.”

The boy frankly beamed at him, and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek before he knew what had happened, and then he was hugging him as well, happily perched over his body and simply laying on him.

“Thank you.”

“No, my boy, it is I who should thank you.”

He brought a shaky hand up from the death grip on the sheets and carefully stroked the boy’s hair, grounding himself. He was going to take the best damn care of him.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bitch u thought there wouldnt be smut??


	3. Chapter 3

Credence felt a bit weak in the knees after the man had picked him up and just  _carried_  him so easily to the bedroom, but it was nothing compared to what had happened next. He’d more than humored his embarrassing slip up and had been so kind, and so strong, even though he knew he didn’t have to pay the man back at all for anything, he still wanted to. 

He was desperate, eager almost, he knew, to be wicked, to try and please the man any way he could, and he hoped he had done well enough. When the man collapsed back on the bed and pulled him in for a hug, it was wonderful, so comfortable and soft, just resting on him.

“Can I kiss you?”

The man was asking him, his voice a low sort of rumble, not unlike how he’d spoken right after waking up beside Credence.

“Please.”

He liked kissing a lot, it was easy, and gentle, it didn’t aggravate his lip or his sore cheek, and the man, Mister Percy, he knew he needed to get used to thinking of him like that and not the… other name he’d used, was very careful of his injuries.

He could only imagine what the man had thought when he saw his bare back and the mess of scars there. If Mister Percy thought himself unappealing due to being able to eat well, he couldn’t imagine how Credence appeared in his own mind.

He could feel Mister Percy slowly nudging him up and over onto his back, and he let him, hands spanning over the man’s chest and up to grip his bare shoulders, beneath the soft flannel of his robe.

He was warm, so warm, as if maybe he needed to take off the robe, and Credence didn’t mind, if he wanted to do that, and then hide a bit under the covers, he could do that too.

Mister Percy’s lips broke away from his and moved around to kiss down his right cheek and to his neck, where he’d first made an impression, and lower, pulling his shirt open to reveal a bit of his collarbone, and he tilted his head to give more access to it, wondering if he should undo the buttons himself.

“You’re really something, you know that?”

Credence wasn’t sure what he meant, but he hummed and smiled, and he could feel the man’s sharp exhale over his skin, making him shiver. A strong and firm hand was gripping one of his hips, and as the man braced himself up on the other one, he seemed to be trying to kiss his way down Credence’s body.

By the time he’d reached his waistband, Credence was throbbing, almost aching for a touch to his pants, to anywhere between his legs if it would ease the pain.

“Credence, are you okay?”

He gulped, and blinked his eyes open, realizing only then that the strange sounds like whining had been coming out of his mouth, and he hadn’t just been imaging them.

Mister Percy was hovering above him, his hand warm on Credence’s stomach, fingertips tickling his skin, teasing him in a way he would never be able to explain.

“Yes, please, daddy, won’t you put your mouth on me?”

The words spilled out of him as equally as tears, his hands no longer on the man at all, now just starting to undo his zipper and button, shoving his boxers and pants down in one motion, baring himself to the man’s sight, and praying that he wouldn’t laugh or push him away.

He was still shivering and wetness streaked over his cheeks as Mister Percy leaned down to press a kiss to his naked hip, easing his pants off the rest of the way, before putting his strong hand to Credence’s cock.

“O-o-oh…”

He couldn’t fathom how good it felt, and that was just a stray touch, not even anything with purpose or meant to rile him up.

“Is it okay baby?”

He couldn’t speak, he could only nod, and the second the man’s hand rubbed over the head of it, just a graze of fingers by accident probably, he thrust his hips up, seeking more friction. 

“Don’t worry about anything. Just come whenever you’re ready.”

Credence barely knew how to respond to that, especially when the man followed it by placing a chaste kiss on his cock, as if trying to tease him further, before actually putting it all the way into his mouth.

Credence was dying surely, that was how it had to feel to break apart into thousands of scattered atoms, drifting on some kind of solar wind, as he gasped and cried out as he felt his limbs turn to mush.

The blankets and sheets were soft beneath him, but Mister Percy’s hands were softer still on him, tucking him into the bed properly, before running a hand through his hair.

He frowned when he heard footsteps retreating, and he peeked open his eyes to see the man pausing in the doorway.

“Wait… where are you going?”

“I have some work I need to do.”

“Can’t you stay with me… just until I fall asleep?”

“If you want me to.”

“Please… daddy?”

Mister Percy was smiling and shaking his head, rubbing a hand down his face, as he did just as Credence asked, and it wasn’t until he was snuggled up against him that he spoke again, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck,

“You don’t have to call me that when we’re like this.”

“Like what?”

Credence wondered, his voice a low whisper.

“Not being intimate.”

“Isn’t this… being in bed, _intimate_?”

The word tasted unfamiliar in his mouth, not tinged with words of condemnation, and behind him, he could feel the man sigh.

“It’s not the same. I would never call you anything but your given name, if I wanted to address you. But here, it’s different. I’m sure thanks to your crash course with pornography you’ve seen all manners of address in the bedroom. They don’t usually continue outside of those four walls.”

“I understand that…”

“Okay.”

Mister Percy hugged him again, different from the usual sort of cuddle, because his arms tightened a bit, before loosening, and Credence had never felt safer than inside the man’s hold.

He fell asleep very quickly after, and was went so deep, he didn’t notice when he was left alone in the bed.

His dreams weren’t scary either, they were filled with strange thoughts, wonderings and fantasies he supposed, in a place beyond time he was looking at Mister Percy from across a bar top, and he got caught staring, only to get lost in his smile.

He was taller, leaner, and didn’t have glasses on. His smile was still warm, and gentle, but there was a dark twinkle to his eye that seemed to be for Credence alone.

He wanted to kiss that smile, he decided. So he did.

In a flash, in time as only dreams made it, he was in Mister Percy’s arms again, letting him kiss him and fondle him none too softly, and he liked it.

Credence woke up breathing hard and slightly sweaty, feeling the sheets over him sticky and damp.

“Oh no.”

But the man had said it was normal and it happened if there was a nice dream, and oh, how nice it had been.

He had never wanted to wake up.

Now he was a bit worried, unsure how to explain it all away, and the idea of asking subtly to do laundry, to do anything, wasn’t one of Credence’s strong suits.

He stayed still for a few moments, trying to think of what to do, yet before he could actually get up and sneak around, there was a knocking on the door. He froze, and tried to shrink further under the covers, but Mister Percy was already opening the door, after all, it was his bedroom.

“Hey there. Get some good rest? I think we should change your bandage. It’s probably stopped bleeding. Then uh, if you want to come along, I was thinking we could take the food by the shelter and run by the store.”

Credence could feel his face heating,

“I can’t get up yet.”

“Why not?”

“I uh, had a good dream.”

“Oh? You think you want to fall back to sleep and get back to it?”

Mister Percy looked amused, and Credence shook his head before realizing he should have just lied. But lying to a Detective was still a bad idea.

“No… I mean, it was uh, nice. You know…”

The man’s eyes widened behind his glasses and he ducked his head,

“Oh, yes, I see. I wonder who occupied your thoughts so thoroughly…”

Credence didn’t know why he was even asking. There was no one else who he could even begin to think of that way.

“It was you. But you in the future. I think. You’re still kind and strong.”

Now he could see the man’s cheeks darkening, and he licked his lips before speaking.

“Is that so? You thought about me so much you already had a dream of me?”

Credence nodded, and the man stepped closer, taking a careful seat nearby him, but not overwhelmingly so.

“Credence, you know that I would be glad to host you as long as I can, but it can’t be forever. Just until things are set right. Is that okay?”

“We can still see each other… right?”

He hadn’t ever been shown such care from a total stranger, and the thought of losing it was almost unbearable.

“Of course. I don’t know how often, or what capacity, but I want to be a good friend to you.”

Credence gulped, and looked away, feeling tears already stinging his traitorous eyes.

“A friend…”

The man’s hand was cupping his uninjured cheek, thumb rubbing gently on his skin, grounding him just how he needed to be,

“Credence, my boy, I can’t be anything more, I can’t be what you need, it’s just not possible. Not right now at least. Trust me when I say, anything I can do to help you, I will.”

“Okay.”

Credence didn’t mean it, but he heard adults say it all the time, to difficult things and hard to believe statements. It was all he could do.

Mister Percy leaned in close, and Credence met him halfway, deflecting what was clearly meant to be a forehead kiss and surging up to snag his lips with his own, ignoring the twinge from the still healing split.

He felt the man sag into the kiss, and press forward, so he parted his lips, allowing it to deepen, if it was wanted.

Mister Percy moved his hand to grasp the back of Credence’s neck, and he relished the sensation, almost wanting more, wanting it to hurt.

“I can’t believe how enthusiastic you’ve become in so little time.”

The man was saying, while Credence’s head still spun from the kiss, and he just smiled dreamily.

“But we should really change this.”

Mister Percy tapped the side of his nose gently, and Credence nodded.

“Where did you want to go?”

The man half carried him to the bathroom to redo the bandage, and then winked at him, badly, with both eyes closing slightly,

“I finished my whiskey last night so I need a new bottle. I’m a man of my word though; we’ll visit the shelter first, and hand over the leftovers. Then we can make breakfast for dinner, if you want. I can’t believe I’ve actually been two days without bacon.”

He chuckled to himself, and Credence was just nodding, not sure what that was, though if Mister Percy liked it, it was probably wonderful.

The car ride to the shelter wasn’t very long, and Credence recognized some of the areas they drove through, he could almost name all the places he had been cornered or followed by the Shaw brothers or their friends.

But he didn’t want to worry Mister Percy or make him upset, so he kept quiet.

Until they reached the liquor store, and he heard the man sigh.

“Since you’re so young, you need to make sure you stay with me the whole time… they kind of freak out if minors walk around unaccompanied… with all the glass bottles and stuff.”

Credence nodded solemnly,

“Of course yes. I promise.”

The bright lights and flashy colors of the various bottle and shelves were very distracting, and Credence wondered if that was part of why people loved drinking so much, just for the look, but he was careful to follow Mister Percy as he took a very methodical path, and he guessed it was because he’d been there before, enough to remember where his favorite alcohol was stored.

It wasn’t until they got to the checkout counter that anyone seemed to notice him, and they merely addressed Mister Percy _about_ him.

“Who’s this? A new recruit? One of the scouts?”

Credence blinked over at the man behind the counter, and Mister Percy put a hand on his shoulder, gripping somewhat firmly,

“He’s my nephew. He’s staying with me for the weekend while my brother’s away on business. The whole divorce thing hasn’t been treating him too well.”

The lie was perfect, and Credence could hardly believe how easily Mister Percy had thought it up, but it was just enough personal information not to need additional questions.

He knew he was flushing, but the guy behind the counter seemed placated.

“How old are you son?”

He looked up to meet the man’s eyes and smiled shakily,

“Fourteen sir.”

“Almost old enough to drive yourself then. Nice to see you Percy. Take care.”

If Credence had to guess, he thought Mister Percy’s hand tightened even further on his shoulder, before he was picking up his bottle and guiding them out towards the car.

“You’re fourteen?”

He was asking, voice sounding a bit strained, and Credence gulped.

“Yeah.”

“God. Fuck. I need a drink.”

Credence didn’t speak again until they had gotten back to Mister Percy’s house, and he was wringing his hands, migrating to the living room to sit down, shrinking into the couch as much as possible, watching as the man poured himself a rather full glass of straight alcohol.

“I can’t believe, I just…”

The man squeezed his eyes shut and took a sip that made him wince, and Credence bit his lip before trying to speak,

“Are you mad at me?”

Mister Percy looked over at him, face stricken,

“No, god no Credence. I’m angrier at myself for assuming you were older. I should have asked. I should have done… a lot of things differently.”

By the time he’d finished his glass, he came over to sit down on the same couch with Credence, but with a decent amount of space between them.

“I’m sorry.”

Mister Percy looked over at him, and his eyes were sad behind his glasses,

“Don’t apologize Credence. You’re not the one at fault here.”

“But you didn’t do anything wrong, you saved my life.”

The man leaned forward and put his head in his hands, shaking it slowly; mumbling something Credence couldn’t quite catch.

“Would it help if I had a drink too? I mean, does drinking make you feel better?”

Mister Percy peeked between his fingers over at him,

“It makes me numb to life’s pain. So. It sort of helps.”

Credence blinked,

“Can I try it?”

There was still at least two sips more remaining in the man’s glass, and he rubbed a hand down his face before straightening back up and sighing.

“I guess. Just a bit.”

He passed over the glass and shakily held it over to Credence, who accepted it gratefully and held it up to smell before taking a tentative sip.

It was smooth on his tongue before it burned as it hit the back of his throat, and he just barely fought the urge to cough, before swallowing and taking another, an actual taste more than a drop.

“Okay, okay that’s enough.”

Mister Percy sort of plucked the glass out of his hands, ignoring the way he pouted at him.

“It’s really good. Like drinking smoke.”

Mister Percy grimaced,

“I don’t think you should ever do that either. Smoking that is. I think with your frame you’d probably end up hurting yourself if you coughed from it.”

Credence nodded. He didn’t really understand the appeal of that vice, and besides, apparently they were very expensive.

After a few moments, his body started to feel warm and tingly like after getting out of a very hot shower, and when he lifted a hand up to touch his nose, and it didn’t hurt, but his arm felt quite heavy.

“You okay?”

He glanced over at Mister Percy so fast it made his vision blur, and he was tilting his head forward, with concern in his eyes.

“Yes. I feel, fine.”

“Good okay. I can’t imagine how you’d be with too much of this shit.”

Mister Percy held up the glass and drained the last bit in one gulp, wincing again.

“Does it hurt you?”

Credence couldn’t help asking, and the man shook his head,

“Not really. But straight, er, without anything to cut it, like ice or coke or something, it’s a bit, uh, strong.”

Credence gulped and then nodded.

“So you like feeling like this? Like your entire body could just float away if it didn’t feel so heavy?”

Mister Percy glanced over at him, and nodded,

“It’s certainly better than anything else I’ve ever had. Wine isn’t strong enough, and beer is way too many calories for how weak it is, and everything else liquor wise is too hard to drink for me. Too sharp.”

Credence had his own center of gravity, and he would have fallen asleep on the couch as he was, if he hadn’t tried to move, but what he really wanted was a hug. So he crawled over, closing the gap between them to fall against the man’s chest, feeling his arm come up behind his back to hold him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Credence smiled up at him, a bit dazed, and he wished he could take off his glasses, maybe try them on. He reached up a hand and ended up landing on the man’s face, fingers brushing over his cheek.

“What are you doing?”

“I wanted to wear these… can I?”

The man blinked, and then smiled a bit,

“If you want. I guess.”

He brought a hand up to clasp over Credence’s and shifted it around to press a kiss to his palm, making him shiver a bit, and then was pulling off the slim frames, and carefully setting them on his face.

“You make them look pretty good.”

Credence’s vision was a bit blurred now, and he wondered how bad Mister Percy’s own eyesight was without the glasses, so he tried to test it, putting his hand higher to touch the man’s hair, and he saw his eyes close.

“Why do you do this to me?”

“What?”

Credence barely heard his own voice; it had fallen into a hushed whisper.

“You make me want to protect you, and care for you endlessly.”

Credence snuggled a bit closer against the man’s chest, unable to hide his smile,

“Thank you.”

“Dear boy, you’re a miracle.”

The man’s arm shifted over his back and was lifting him up so that a kiss could be pressed to his forehead, and Credence hummed.

He just wanted more contact, more warmth, so he put his free arm around the man’s neck and sat up even further, nudging his face up into the man’s, seeking out his lips with his own.

“Credence… we shouldn’t…”

“Please… I want to be with you tonight. I can’t sleep alone.”

He felt the man sigh beneath him, and then he was nodding, somewhat dazedly and Credence guessed he was feeling a lot more drunk than he was, thanks to the sheer amount of alcohol Mister Percy had consumed.

“All right. Come on. Up you get.”

He couldn’t carry him, but Credence could lean on him and felt another kiss pressed against his hair before they both somewhat collapsed onto the man’s bed, and Credence found himself smiling, even just hugging him as they were laying down.

“You’re so comfy.”

“I’m hideous.”

“No.”

Credence moved up the man’s body, a hand placed on his arm, kneading the muscle gently, as he kissed over Mister Percy’s chin and past his mouth, down his neck, just trying to imitate what he’d once tried. Now that his head was a bit fuzzy, he didn’t realize how hard he’d nipped at the skin until the man fairly jumped under him, and his arms wrapped around his body more tightly.

“What are you doing baby?”

He sounded out of breath, and Credence bit his lip before shifting up and looking down at him,

“I want to make you feel good. I don’t want you feeling bad because of me.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

Credence shook his head,

“Not yet. You don’t have to do anything. I promise.”

His hand had already slid over from the man’s arm to start undoing the buttons of his shirt, and he licked his lips before resuming what he’d been doing, originally attempting to kiss his way to the man’s pants, but he felt a hand on his face, halting his downward movement.

“What if I don’t want you do to that?”

Credence blinked, and then remembered he was still wearing the man’s glasses, and that was probably why his head was starting to hurt, so he shucked them off and folded them carefully before setting them aside on the table by the bed.

“Please?”

He didn’t know what he looked like to the man, probably blurry and half formed but he could see the man’s eyes focusing on his lips, and his throat moved as he swallowed.

“There’s something else…”

Credence beamed,

“What?”

The man’s hands moved from gripping his back to rest on his waist, and he moved without even being asked, straddling the man’s thighs easily enough, putting a daring hand on his pants, where he could already feel a lump.

“Uh, only if you want. I just mean, you don’t have to do anything, but I think seeing you with this on me again might just kill me.”

The man was lifting a hand to cup his cheek, grazing his thumb over Credence’s bottom lip, and he stuck his tongue out impulsively, catching the pad with it, and the man groaned.

“Fuck. Okay. Um. Can you help me out of my pants, and take off yours?”

Credence nodded at once.

He was much more clear headed still, so he did as Mister Percy asked, folding his shirt and jeans and returning to sit beside him, undoing his own zipper and button to pull them down the man’s legs.

Once he was back on top of the man, and they were both down to their boxers, Credence found himself absentmindedly petting over his chest, as he felt the man’s hands sliding up his thighs, strong and firm, grounding him.

“What now?”

Mister Percy let out a shaky breath, and then squeezed his hands slightly, making Credence jump,

“Kiss me.”

Credence smiled, he could do that all day, and he leaned down, still pressing his hands to the man’s chest for leverage, and the second their lips met again, he felt the man shudder below him, and the hands on him shifted up to hold his backside.

No one had ever touched him there, like that, with tenderness.

He’d been hit before on his back plenty of times, and if it was still healing or bloody, ma would make him take down his pants and whip his belt there instead.

Now the man was just kneading his flesh, and it was almost like a massage, soothing and gentle.

He broke the kiss to gasp,

“Would you be okay if I took these off?”

Mister Percy dipped his thumbs under the waistband, and Credence was nodding against him, moving down to nuzzle his face into the crook of the man’s neck and shoulder, letting him do just that, until he was naked over him, and his cock was shamefully hard, bobbing up against his stomach, slick at the tip.

“God.”

When the man put his hands to his now bared skin, Credence couldn’t help the moan that escaped him, and he just barely held back from grinding down onto the man’s hips.

“Touch yourself.”

Credence’s eyes went wide, but he did as the man said, and shuddered against his own hand, thrusting weakly into his palm, before he realized the hands on his backside had shifted, and while one was still kneading over a cheek, the other was dipping lower, pressing against the hottest place between his legs.

“Oh-h… what are you…?”

Credence’s jaw dropped when a finger pressed around the tight muscle, and his hand jerked against his cock, as a unique flare of pleasure washed through him, and he could hear Mister Percy’s voice through a fog,

“Does that feel good baby?”

He nodded, and kept stroking himself, until he could feel his knees getting weaker, and he was gasping,

“I think I’m going to come daddy…”

Mister Percy smiled, looking a little bit hazy, and he was still carefully touching Credence, nudging just barely the tip of a finger inside him,

“Okay, go ahead.”

Credence shuddered through it, and barely realized he’d just made a mess on the man’s chest, lost in the haze of ecstasy almost falling forward over him, and he could feel the man pressing a kiss to his sweaty neck.

“You were perfect.”

“What about you?”

Credence shifted a hand clumsily between their bodies, and palmed over the man’s cock, still trapped beneath the thin fabric of his boxers.

He hummed as the man groaned at the contact, and his hands tightened over Credence’s back,

“I’d love to come inside you… if you want.”

Credence was a bit blissed out still, but he blinked, staring at the closest bit of the man he could see, which was his right shoulder, and he could feel his heart pounding beneath his ear,

“You can do that?”

“Yes baby. It just takes a bit of help, some uh, lubrication. It won’t hurt if we go slowly.”

Credence nodded against him, and squeezed his hand lightly on the man’s cock, feeling his breath catch,

“Okay.”

*

Percy couldn’t quite believe his own luck, watching as the boy tugged off his boxers and still managed to look at him with stars in his eyes, but it was probably due to the bit of whiskey he’d given him, that had to be it.

Why else would he have still been there, willingly, in bed, completely naked, with him?

“What do I do?”

The boy asked him with a low voice, almost a murmur, and he snagged one of his smaller hands and guided it to his cock, the mindless comforting pleasure helping clear his thoughts, helping him focus.

“You’ll just need to sit up a bit further, so I can reach you. If you can reach into the drawer over there, bring out the tube you find.”

Credence nodded, and then crawled away a bit, leaving his pert little ass almost right in front of Percy’s face, and the urge to slap it was overwhelming but his hand stilled the instant he caught sight of reddish marks. Scars.

Even _there._

He sighed and let his head fall back onto the pillows. What the fuck had he gotten himself into?

“Like this?”

The first cold touch of slick on his cock nearly made him cry out, and he panted a bit, his eyes instantly locked on the hand that had returned to him, and he could only nod.

“Do I need some too?”

Credence rubbed two fingers together, as his other hand still slowly stroked over Percy’s cock.

“Y-yes, do you want to do it or do you want me to…”

He couldn’t say it, he couldn’t bear to put to words the horrible thing he wanted to do, but there he was again, becoming yet another first for the boy.

“Okay.”

Credence snagged one of his hands, which was fisted at his side, after he had decided against smacking the boy’s ass, and then he was putting it between the boy’s legs, below his own softened cock and beyond, as he seemed innocently unaware that the lube was for that too.

“Wait you need…”

But the boy had his hand there too, fingers mingled with Percy’s, and then he was helping one of them inside, his jaw going slack from the feeling.

Percy would be happy to just let the boy ride his fingers and he could come from that, easily, but it’s the eagerness that does him in, and watching as the boy’s cheeks turned pink, the blush spreading halfway down his pale chest, and oh, his cock was already hardening again.

Well, one point in favor for his youth, Percy supposed.

“Please… what next daddy?”

“I need you to uh, move up closer to me baby.”

“Okay.”

Credence did just that, loomed over him until he was nearly straddling his belly, and Percy gulped, before withdrawing his fingers, he’d gotten up to three, somehow, and as the boy stared down at him, he reached back to grasp at his own cock, before nudging gently at the boy’s hole.

“Can you sit up, and come back down very carefully?”

Credence nodded, and Percy fought the urge to moan as the boy put his hands onto his chest, leveraging up and back perfectly, taking in Percy’s cock inch by agonizing inch, struggling a bit, and the fluttering of his muscle around his length could just be about the best thing he had ever felt.

“Oh-h-h god… you’re so tight baby.”

“Hnnngh, daddy, is it good? It feels so strange.”

He squeezed his hands on the boy’s thighs, hoping to be of some comfort, and he nodded.

The alcoholic haze might have hurt him, made it nearly impossible for him to come, with just the boy’s mouth on him, and his sweet gentle hands, but with the feel of his entire body seeming to clench around him, that will make him fall over the edge faster than he was even prepared for.

On the third thrust up and the boy’s careful swiveling of hips, trying to make sure there was enough friction, Percy was about ready to die happy.

“Will you touch me? I’m sorry… I didn’t know it would happen again so soon.”

“Don’t apologize baby.”

Percy put a hand to the boy’s cock almost blindly, merely reduced to a man feeling, taking, breathing steady to keep from saying something incredibly stupid, like begging him to stay forever, promising things he can’t know he could keep.

The boy’s hips stuttered over him, and he tightened his hand on his cock, feeling the boy’s hands digging into his chest, blunt nails scratching him slightly.

It was that, the mix of pain along with the sheer perfection of the vise grip on his cock that did him in, and he cried out as he came, Credence’s mouth crashing onto his in a desperately sweet kiss.

He felt the boy’s cock pulsing in his hand only a few seconds later, and he shifted up and off of him to fall against his side, panting for breath.

Sleep pulled him under quickly, and he barely noticed that the boy pulled a blanket over them, but when he awoke in the middle of the night, more than a little confused and with a headache, he found that the boy still slept, curled into him, arm thrown across his belly.

He heaved out a sigh, and then closed his eyes again, chasing back after the sleep that still lingered.

*

Credence didn’t so much as wake up as slowly return to awareness, and the morning sunshine that spilled into the room might have had something to do with it, or the soft snores coming from the man beside him.

Either way, he didn’t really want to move.

He snuggled closer, and felt the arm around his back tighten, before he pressed his cheek against the man’s chest, and could hear him breathing steadily, even as his heart beat jumped.

“Morning?”

He whispered, unsure if he was actually awake or merely stirring.

“Mmm.”

The man’s eyes were still closed, but there was a smile curving over his mouth, and Credence can’t help matching it with one of his own, almost giddy.

“We skipped dinner last night.”

“You’re right. S’no wonder we got drunk so fast.”

“What can we make for breakfast?”

“You wanna go somewhere? It’s Sunday. Sunday brunch is always good.”

“Really?”

Credence had never been out and about on a Sunday if not for church, it was almost a heady feeling, being rebellious as he had all during the weekend, drinking, indulging in forbidden things, and his mouth watered at the idea of anything that had been as good as his breakfast the day before.

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

He was left to lounge in the bed, still cozy and warm as the man took his shower and got dressed, before setting out a shirt that Credence could wear so he didn’t have to go out in the same thing he’d worn the day before, and when he emerged, glowing and pinked from the hot water, he swore he caught the man staring at him.

“Ready?”

He nodded, and the car ride to the restaurant was quiet, but perfectly comfortable. Credence liked not having to fill the silence with pointless chatter about nothing important.

Eggs Benedict was something Credence had never heard of, but Mister Percy promised he’d like it, and if he didn’t, well, he’d be happy to finish it and order him something else.

He got to have hot chocolate in a china cup, while the man ordered coffee and drank it without any milk or sugar.

He wondered how similar it tasted to the whiskey from the night before, and he almost asked to try some, but the sweetness and rich taste of the liquid chocolate was far too appealing to be distracted from.

When the food arrived, he just stared for a moment. It was all so beautiful and laid out like a feast for kings. Was it how people ate all the time when they went out?

Mister Percy told him if he wanted to pray he could, or he was welcome to just start eating, so Credence did, and he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt, but instead some kind of warm and easy peace settled over him as he ate.

The food was incredible, but even better than that, looking up and seeing his strong and kind rescuer with him was more than enough to calm him.

When he reached for his napkin, his hand bumped against Mister Percy’s setting beside his coffee cup, and he saw the man’s eyes falter from his own.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow.”

Credence nodded, and felt the man’s finger graze over the back of his knuckles before withdrawing to pick up his cup.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo no resolution again its all up to your imaginations. maybe graves adopts him. then they start going to the gym together for fun.  
> graves gets buff again.  
> idk.


End file.
